


medianoche

by peacefrog



Series: Hannibal Cre-ate-ive Events [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-25
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8652679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/pseuds/peacefrog
Summary: Days all melted together, a soft haze of salt and sun. Will’s beard grew and his skin darkened. He thought about killing a lot.
Or yet another story told in ten 100 word sections. Set immediately following Will and Hannibal's arrival in Cuba.





	

Their new plot of land was an orange grove, a five minute walk from the sea. The bite of citrus mingled with salt on the air. Will breathed deep and it burned. Far from Havana and her lights, it was easy to imagine they were the only souls left in the world.

On their first evening in that new place Hannibal picked great overflowing baskets of citrus, mounding them high on the kitchen counter. Will thumbed at the rinds, biting into them with his nail.

“We’ll have fresh juice every morning,” Hannibal said.

Will lapped bitter sweetness from his skin.

—

The wound on Will’s cheek had healed over in the months following that fateful evening, the easy tug of scar tissue a ceaseless reminder. Phantom blood still lingered on his tongue. 

“Would you like to talk about what happened?” Hannibal asked one evening. Sun cut across his face in deep white lines.

Will didn’t know quite where to begin. “No thank you,” he replied.

Hannibal didn’t push the conversation. Perhaps words didn’t need to be spoken.

Days all melted together, a soft haze of salt and sun. Will’s beard grew and his skin darkened. He thought about killing a lot.

—

They visited the market in town, strolling past stalls overflowing with grapefruit and plantain. Guava and papaya and mango. A man in a cheap linen suit bumped into Will without apology, glaring at him over his shoulder.

Will snarled. A few stalls over, the man began yelling in broken Spanish.

Hannibal gazed toward the scene, then to Will. “He’s quite rude.”

“Entitled American tourism,” Will spat. “He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“Yes. I suppose he will.”

They wandered separately after that, meeting back at the car in the early afternoon. Hannibal was smiling sharply, face upturned to the sun.

—

“You wanted to kill that man today,” Hannibal said, slicing into a mango. He scooped the segments into a bowl before turning his knife on another.

“If we acted on every thought we had, the world would devolve into chaos,” Will said, cutting into an orange. The rind sprayed sweetly into the air.

“The world is always devolving, and piecing itself together again.”

Wordlessly Will tossed the segments of orange and mango together with his hands. When he was through, Hannibal gripped Will by the wrists and inhaled the scent from his fingers.

Hannibal breathed deep. “Wonderful.”

Will shivered, breathless.

—

The next morning there was a business card tucked beneath the corner of Will’s bedside lamp. Will took it between his fingers and found Hannibal in the kitchen, presenting it with a frown. “What’s this?”

“It’s not at all difficult to acquire a new friend’s personal information, if you only know the questions to ask.”

“Hannibal.”

“The decision is entirely yours. Do with it what you will.”

Will poured himself a steaming mug of coffee and went out into the yard. He sat beneath a fragrant orange tree and stared at the man’s name, deeply embossed in thick black letters.

—

“If I wanted to…” Will swallowed thickly around the words. His hands were gently trembling. “How would we do it?”

“How would you like to do it?”

Will closed his eyes and saw the slow drip of blood from his own fingers. Copper mingled with salt and citrus as he breathed against the burn. “Together,” he said, softly. “It only matters that we do it together.”

Hannibal nodded and crowded into Will’s personal space. “Would you like me to bring him to you?”

Will anticipated the dull drumming of his own frantic heart, but was met with nothing but calm.

—

Will squeezed half an orange in a tight fist, letting the juice run between his fingers. He repeated this until his glass was all but overflowing, not bothering to fish out the vagrant seeds.

“We do have a juicer, you know.”

“I know,” Will said, mashing pulp between his teeth. “Easier this way.”

Hannibal backed Will against the counter, cradling his face in one warm hand. “You experience the world through tactile sensations.”

Will leaned into the heat of Hannibal’s palm. “Don’t we all.”

“Some more than others. You prefer to use your hands.”

Will sighed, eyes falling shut. “Always.”

—

Just after midnight, the whiteness of the moon was pinned high in the dark. Its light dripped down through a tangle of branches, dancing on their skin as Hannibal led Will out toward the shed.

Will didn’t have to ask what he would find inside.

The man from the market lay spread out on the floor, chained at the ankles and wrists. Wide-eyed and panting, he huffed muffled pleas and curses into the bunched up fabric of his gag. Overhead, a pendant light swung like a frantic star.

Will met Hannibal’s eyes in the pulsing light, falling to his knees. 

—

Blood slipped from skin and blade, pooling darkly against the concrete. Will clutched a long knife in his hand, steadily completing his incision.

“Is this all you care to take from him?” Hannibal asked, eying the cuts Will was placing in a shallow container. The psoas muscles. Will had taken such parts before.

“Yes,” Will said, wiping the mess from his hands down the front of his jeans. “Make me something. I don’t care if it’s late.”

“Of course,” Hannibal smiled darkly. Will gripped him by the front of the shirt, ruining it red as he crashed their mouths together.

—

“Medianoche,” Hannibal said, taking sizzling slices of meat and placing them on thick sandwich rolls. “A simple classic here on the island. Named for the time of day in which it’s commonly consumed.”

“I’m sorry for making such a mess,” Will said, gazing at red flecks beneath his fingernails. He’d have to wash his hands again.

“Never apologize for such a thing.” Hannibal rounded the counter and presented Will his plate, stealing one more kiss before allowing Will to sink his teeth in.

Will smiled, baring blunt fangs as he opened wide, first bite melting on his tongue so sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](http://crossroadscastiel.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
